


Finishing What We Started

by faintlydisappointed



Series: A Series of Dramione One Shots [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bartender Draco Malfoy, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, One Shot, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faintlydisappointed/pseuds/faintlydisappointed
Summary: 5 years after the war, Draco works as a bartender in a rundown muggle bar and Hermione Granger is drinking to forget her ex.Past passions are rekindled and a lot of apologising through regretful tears ensues.(May become a multi-chapter, but for now, it is a one-shot!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt my friend gave me:  
> Character A is a bartender and Character B is drinking to forget about their ex
> 
>  
> 
> Rated M for possible future chapters! (Also I'm paranoid)
> 
> Please leave a review/kudos if you would like me to continue the fic! Thanks everyone <3

  
  


She collapsed onto the barstool a couple of paces down from him, hair flying in all directions, waving her hand rather impatiently in order to grab his attention.

 

He strode over to her, glass held in one hand, cleaning cloth scrubbing away in the other.

 

Only then did her recognise her wild mane and fiery gaze. What was the little Gryffindor lioness doing here?

 

“Granger,” he drawled, “Didn't think a bookworm like you would show up somewhere like this.” He placed the glass down to make a sweeping gesture at the rundown pub, his other hand still fiddling with the green dishcloth.

 

He was right, she normally wouldn't have chosen a place like the bar she had stumbled into, but she had looked for a place that could give her what she needed, and what she needed right now was a good, strong drink.

 

“Shove it, Malfoy. I could say the same about you,” she sniffed the air mockingly. “This place smells distinctly  _ muggle _ .”

 

He stiffened, but then remembered that she had been there at his trial five years ago, and from the look on her face she was merely teasing him.

 

“You of all people should remember the terms of my probation, Granger. I wouldn't be surprised if you had somehow found out I worked here, and purposely came to visit me.” He countered lightly, leaning toward her, his voice lowered so as not to alert the surrounding muggles of his ‘fugitive’ status.

 

She scoffed at him, but amusement twinkled in her eyes as she held his gaze steadily. “Stop being so full of yourself and get me a drink would you?”

 

He chuckled warmly, straightening up and placing the cloth down beside the glass. It was good to run into her again after all the years. He would hardly admit it, but he had missed their banter. “What would you like, princess?”

 

“Don't call me that,” She snapped suddenly, hurt and fury marring her pretty features. Realising what she had said, she shook her head to clear the avalanche of emotions, and tilted her chin down to stare at her hands that were resting in her lap. She looked almost apologetic, and he couldn't help but wonder why on earth the simple nickname had provoked such a reaction from her.

 

“Sorry,” she muttered, more reserved, and he wondered where the fierce girl he remembered her as had disappeared to. That girl would have never apologised to him. She would have held her head up high and told him off until he understood.

 

He smiled wanly at her, still rather confused at her change in demeanour, but he figured people changed over time. He certainly had. “Alright then, Lioness.” A small, wavering smile graced her lips upon hearing his old nickname for her, but she didn't look up to meet his concerned gaze. “What would the lady like to drink this fine evening?”

 

“Something strong,” she lifted her head, but looked past him, to the array of liquor lining the wall. “Something to get me so drunk, I won't remember tonight for the  _ rest of my damn life _ ,” she spat. He smirked proudly. At least some of her old spark shone brightly somewhere within.

 

No matter, he snatched up a whiskey glass and swiftly grabbed a tinted bottle from an open cabinet below the wall before swinging around to face her. The glass clattered softly as he placed it onto the wooden bar.

 

“Well I may not be able to give you alcohol poisoning,” he quipped, earning another small smile from the woman. He lowered his voice once again, so that it was barely audible above the chatter and thumping music from the speakers. “ _ But _ , I  _ can _ give you some firewhiskey, and Merlin knows it’s far stronger than any kind of muggle drink.” He was glad that there were several other bartenders, it made sure he could spend the whole night with her if he wanted to.  _ Talking _ , he chastised himself.  _ Not in any other way _ .

 

As he poured her a glass, he couldn’t help but give her a once over. Much had changed since he last saw her at their Graduation, almost a full two years after the war. She didn’t hold herself with as much confidence as she used to, making her seem much smaller in stature. Her features had matured prettily, yet dark circles were prominent underneath her unblinking honey eyes, and it seemed as though her brows were permanently furrowed in thought. Her lips tilted downwards naturally to form an almost weary pout, and he felt the sudden urge to make her smile again. Her clothes hung loosely from her lithe frame, and seemed mused in the way that signalled some sort of distress when she had hurriedly flung them on. The only thing that had remained unchanged was her tangled mane of sunkissed curls, and he happily noted that it would never be tamed.

 

She took the firewhiskey from him gently, but then his eyes went wide as she tipped the glass back against her lips and downed the whole thing in one shot.

 

Laughing nervously, he questioned her in a casual manner, but heard the true trepidation he felt lacing his tone, “Woah, Granger, what happened to you to warrant this kind of dictionary-definition alcoholism.”

 

She slammed the glass down on the bar so hard, he was surprised it didn’t shatter under her grip. She spoke in a dangerously low tone, and although he knew it wasn’t directed at him, he couldn’t help the shiver that raced down his spine.

 

“Ronald cheated on me.”

 

His eyes widened at that, and she took advantage of his stunned state by snagging the bottle of magical alcohol and pouring herself another full glass, downing it just as quickly as the first.

 

Once he had snapped out of his short-lived stupor, he moved to shift the bottle away from her, but froze when she fixed him with a murderous glare.

 

For the second time in his life, he was quite terrified of Hermione Granger.

 

Still, he attempted to cajole her. “Little lioness, I think you might want to slow down a bit.” He reached for the bottle again.

 

She growled and smacked his hand away.

 

“Leave it. I want to be thoroughly pissed before I even  _ begin  _ to tell this story.” She quirked a brow in challenge, “Unless you don’t want to hear it, that is?”

 

He clamped his lips shut and lifted his hands to indicate his surrender.

 

She smirked and poured herself another glass.

 

* * *

  
  


“He used to call me ‘princess’.”

 

He watched her unwaveringly, his chin cupped in the palm of his hands and his elbows resting on the countertop. Hermione swirled the remaining half of her 5th glass of the amber liquid silently, before sighing and beginning her tale of woe.

 

“After the war, Ron and I got together, as I’m sure you already know. We'd shared a brief kiss during the battle, and had decided to finally act on our feelings and become a proper couple,” She smiled, nostalgic at the memory of the first flushes of their love. Draco scowled at the fact that she could still look back fondly, even after what he had done to her.

 

“Harry and Ginny similarly fell into a romantic relationship at the time. The members of the Order, and especially the Weasleys, were thrilled that the pairs of us had stopped dancing around one another and finally gotten together. It was the spark of happiness everyone had needed at the time, after everything that had happened.” 

 

He nodded softly at her words, urging her to continue.

 

“I’d thought things were going fine at the time, but perhaps they had never been. Hindsight is 20/20, as muggles say,” she chuckled mirthlessly. 

 

“When we went back to Hogwarts to retake out 7th year,” she gestured flippantly between the two of them, “Ron took up one of the many job offers he had received. Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, the quidditch team of his childhood dreams.” She took a swig from the glass.

 

He couldn't help but think she was quite alcohol tolerant. She had almost finished half the bottle, and yet was still completely coherent.

 

“That was probably when things started to go down-hill,” she admitted meekly, tears welling up in her eyes. 

 

_ There. That  _ was the alcohol. She was tipsy and emotional and he knew it, otherwise she wouldn't be here telling him any of this, much less crying in front of him after having not seen him in years.

 

“We were Head Girl and Head Boy, and Draco-,” He sucked in a shaky breath at the use of his first name. He hadn't heard it since the night of the Graduation Ball, and he suddenly felt overcome with longing. He didn't realise how much he had missed it coming from her lips till he heard it again.

 

“-As much as I would never blame you for any of this,  _ ever _ ,” She shook her head in resignation, “ _ We _ were probably the breaking point.”

 

He leapt up, confused and shocked as he placed his palms flat on the bar. She jumped at his sudden movement, and looked up to meet his eyes. 

 

“But we never did anything! We weren't involved! Just because we shared a do-” she cut him off by reaching across the bar and placing a soothing hand on top of one of his.

 

“I know, Draco. But Ron didn't see it that way.” She sniffled, salty rivulets of tears cascading down her face. Her cheeks were flushed. From anger, embarrassment or the alcohol, he wasn't quite sure.

 

“He heard about our friendship from Ginny, or so he told me after I mentioned it to him in passing in a letter one day. She must have twisted it some awful way, you know she never did like you,” she mumbled, clearly resentful towards the redheaded woman.

 

She choked out another sentence through her sobs, so quiet that he almost didn't hear it.

 

“Why do you think I broke our promise, Draco?”

 

_ Their promise _ , he realised. He had kept it, he suddenly remembered. It had been almost three years since she had broken their promise. Every emotion he'd ever felt at that time came rushing back, and he snatched his hand away from hers. 

 

“ _ Weasely  _ is the reason why you never wrote?” He hissed, raking a hand through his already tousled hair.

 

Three years ago they had made a promise. A promise to keep in contact, to remain friends. No matter what happened. Hermione had discovered after the war that Draco did not have very many friends. Only Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott had stuck by him, besides Blaise, who hadn't returned from hiding after the war, but who was still in contact with Draco through owl.

 

She had  _ clearly _ promised that night, after a tentative friendship had been established between the two, that she would remain his friend. That she would keep in touch with him, no matter what anyone else said.

 

He had spent the entire first year after their graduation sending her letter upon letter, just like they had promised.

 

The owls always came back, letter gone, but no reply.

 

He had continued relentlessly, knowing that she must have received his writing (for his owls were quite territorial, and would not give a letter to anyone who was not the recipient), but confused as to why she hadn't replied to a single one.

 

In the end, after a couple of particularly nasty and accusatory letters, he had stopped. Heartbroken and betrayed, It was clear he would never hear from her again. 

 

No more book recommendations, no more snarky remarks, no more laughing the night away in front of the fireplace.

 

No more Hermione Jean Granger.

 

Yet here she was in front of him, 3 years after their friendship had essentially ended, sobbing her eyes out because that  _ bastard  _ had cheated on her. He'd taken her away from him, used her, and then tossed her out.

 

Oh, Ronald Weasley had it  _ coming _ .

 

As his mind came back to reality, he was once again stunned when he noticed that she was inconsolable, pleading for his forgiveness. She must have taken his sudden shift in mood the wrong way.

 

Thankfully, it was already well past closing time, seeing as she had come in rather late, and they were the only people left in the bar, save for a few other employees who were eyeing the pair sympathetically. He must remember to thank Jack and Ella later, for not disturbing the pair of them. 

 

He vaulted himself over the bar to reach her and crushed her to him, whispering sweet nothings and kissing the crown of her head softly to calm her down.

 

“You're drunk, Little Lioness,” he sighed, once her tears had been reduced to the occasional shudder and hiccup.

 

She muttered something to the effect of ‘drunk in love’ but before his heart could skip a beat in reaction to her maybe-words she asked him, anxiety evident in her trembling voice, “You're not mad at me?”

 

He smiled guiltily at her before burying his face back into her bushy hair. “I'll admit I was, all those years ago, and I wrote some horrible things because of it. But not now. Never again. Even though I'll never be able to take back those awful utterances, I do hope you'll forgive me.”

 

A sniff. “They were rightfully harsh. I betrayed your trust, something you rarely give to anyone.”

 

He chuckled lightly, pulling back to face her again. He stroked her cheek with his hand and released a shaky breath as she nuzzled into his palm. “Well, now I know that it wasn't your fault. None of it was. When you think about it like that, my words were uncalled for.”

 

She nodded, avoiding his eyes, seemingly still quite ashamed. “You were hurt, and you  _ didn’t _ know at the time. It’s alright, Draco. I understand. And if you need me to say it aloud,  _ I forgive you _ .”

 

One of Draco's colleagues broke them out of their little bubble when he called over to let him know he was leaving and that Draco was the last one out. He told Draco he would have to lock up, before tossing the key to him and sauntering out the back door. 

 

“What time is it?” she mumbled blearily, the emotional reunion and the alcohol clearly taking its toll.

 

“About half-past three in the morning, why?”

 

“I need to finish my story!” She pouted, like a child who had been denied a sugar quill.

 

He grinned down at her. She was  _ very _ drunk. “Alright, Little Lioness, finish your story.”

 

He settled onto the bar stool next to her, but still clutched one of her dainty hands in his.

 

He was just glad to have her back in his life.

 

* * *

 

“Ron had stopped writing to me towards the end of ‘Eighth year’.”

 

‘8th year’ was what they had fondly dubbed their re-sit of their final school year. In actual fact, they were only able to continue their education about 2 years after the war, seeing as the Hogwarts castle had been in desperate need of repair, and the wizarding world was still struggling to get back on its feet.

 

“At first I had thought it quite insignificant. It was a period of time in which he had heavy training, and I thought he was just busy,” She shrugged slightly, the movement almost making her fall off the chair due to her inebriated swaying. If Draco hadn’t been there to hold her, she probably would have ended up on the ground.

 

“It was only after I got back to the Burrow, in the early hours of the morning after Graduation, that I found out why.”

 

“I didn’t even see him at the ball, but apparently he had been there,” she scoffed indignantly, angered that although he had been around, he hadn’t bothered to congratulate her on completing her education. “He was livid, kept going on about how we were dancing together and laughing together, ranting about how Ginny had been right all along.” 

 

She inhaled sharply, more tears pricking her eyes.

 

“I- I tried to explain, tell him that we had only been doing the Head’s Traditional Waltz, and that we were friends and that we- we were fulfilling our head duties like Headmaster McGonagall had  _ told  _ us to.”

 

“Which was the truth,” he scowled. As much as he had harboured some feelings for her at the time, he was quite sure she hadn’t returned (and would never return) them. He hadn’t pursued her, especially since she was already in a relationship with the Weasel.

 

She nodded stiffly, her grasp on his hand tightening.

 

“He,” She paused, as if trying to contemplate whether or not to tell him this part, but settled on letting him know the truth anyway. “He called me a Death Eater concubine. A whore.”

 

He drew back as if he had been slapped, bristling sharply. “ _ He called you a WHAT? _ ”

 

She flinched at his tone, which was enough to calm him down to the point where he was no longer shaking with rage. “Sorry, I just-”

 

“I know,” she coughed, her warm brown eyes meeting his steely silver ones. “You’re fiercely protective, Draco, it’s one of the things I love about you.”

 

She clearly didn’t notice her slip up, probably due to the firewhiskey in her system, but his eyes widened in disbelief for the third time that night. She couldn’t possibly have just said that.

 

Her gaze flickered away, to the wooden countertop beside them. “He was drunk, probably more than I am now. I chalked the insults up to him just being stripped of all inhibitions by the alcohol. I didn't think he had meant it. It was the first time I saw him that way, but unfortunately not the last.” She bit out a cruel laugh, “Boy did I ever make a mistake giving him the benefit of the doubt all those years ago.”

 

“That’s all I ever did, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. When he forbade me from answering your letters that night, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. ‘He’ll come around’, I told myself, ‘He’s drunk!’” She bit her lip, “He never did.”

 

“When we moved in together after I left school, being under pressure from Mrs Weasley, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He never let me go out without him. When he snatched away every letter I ever tried to write to you, telling me he would send them to you for me, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He evidently never sent them, and I’m quite sure I had seen one smouldering in the fireplace one day. I’d thought it was just my imagination. When he told me he wanted me to take a gap year before I started work, ‘for you to rest’ he said, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. It took me almost half a year  _ after _ that ‘gap year’ for me to convince him to let me become a Healer. Even then it resulted in a massive row. We had unsatisfying sex, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was inexperienced, like me! He was always late home after practice, or not home at all, smelling awfully strongly of his cologne, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Now, I’m quite sure he had been sowing his wild oats. We fought constantly over absolutely nothing, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.  _  I loved him at the start, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt _ .”

 

She paused in her ramblings, catching her breath, and shuddering with unbridled anger and unshed tears. He remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

 

“More than  _ three years _ , Draco! More than three years in that sham of a relationship that tore us apart and I  _ still  _ come crawling back to you.” Her body was wracked with sobs. “I missed you more than I ever could have thought. As much as I loved to pretend otherwise,  _ you  _ were my best friend then, Draco.”

 

“Not Harry, he was too busy with Auror training and  _ Ginny Weasley _ ,” she spat. “Not Ron, he was too busy being fawned over by slutty Chudley Cannons fangirls and ignoring my letters! No, it was  _ you  _ who held me in the common room those nights when we couldn’t fall asleep, because closing our eyes meant seeing the glowing red of the Cruciatus Curse.  _ You  _ were the one with whom I shared each story that came with each scar, and  _ you _ cried with me for all the people who had been lost in that awful war.  _ You  _ were the one who slipped the Dreamless Sleep potion down my throat when I woke up from nightmares screaming, trembling so hard I would have split it if I’d even tried to pick it up.”

 

“Two years of suffering through the after-effects of the war  _ alone _ , even with  _ them _ by my side, came to an end when I re-met you, Draco.”

 

_ His  _ eyes were now the ones with tears swimming in them, and he closed his them only to let a few escape and slip down his flushed cheeks. He gripped her hands even tighter, hoping she would understand, because he couldn’t get the words out.

 

_ Thank you. _

_ You mean just as much to me, as I do to you, Hermione, if not so much more. _

 

She blushed lightly at her own confession, maybe she was more self-aware than he thought, even when under the influence.

 

“I will admit, I thought about you endlessly all through the years. I felt guilty for a while, because I was supposed to be in love with  _ him _ . Our relationship was ‘perfect’, and we were ‘destined to be together’. He even proposed. I accepted of course, because there was not much else I could have done in a room full of Weasleys.”

 

“But that all came to an end tonight.” She tilted her head in thought, “Or more like, last night. It has to be at least four-thirty by now.”

 

He grinned while checking his watch.  _ Little Miss Know-it-All _ , he thought. It was 4:36 in the morning.

 

“I’d floo-ed home late from an emergency shift at St. Mungo's, probably somewhere after midnight, when I heard rather-” She coughed uncomfortably, “ _ racy _ sounds coming from our bedroom. He’d probably expected me to stay over at Susan Bones' place for the night, which I often did after an extremely late shift. She lives in the muggle neighbourhood where the hospital is situated, so I’d normally just collapse in her guest room when I was too tired to take the floo.”

 

“But, unfortunately for him, I had taken some Pepper-Up potion a little earlier in the day, what with the row Ronald and I had had the night before. I hardly got a wink of sleep. The effects were still present, so I decided to make use of what remaining energy I had and make it home. I thought he would have been pleased, and I would have avoided  _ another _ row in the morning for being home so late.”

 

She grimaced slightly at the memory, “Little did I know I would find him in our bed with that blast-ended- _ skank _ , Lavender Brown.”   
  


He lifted her hand to his lips, and she sighed softly as he placed a kiss on the back of it in a comforting gesture.

 

“Seeing him with her, I just knew, I didn’t love him anymore. I hadn’t for years.”   
  


He nodded for her to go on.

 

“He called me a prude and told me it was my fault that he had to go elsewhere to ‘take care of his needs’. Uncaring, I threw the cheap engagement ring he had proposed to me with at the pair of them, grabbed my suitcase with the undetectable extension charm and summoned all my personal items into it. And I left.”

 

She let out a suffering sigh and shifted so that her back was to the bar, and she could lean back with ease. Her head tilted toward the ceiling as she studied the crumbling plaster. “I’m not angry because he cheated on me. Merlin knows I'm glad I finally found a reason to dump him without everyone hounding me.”

 

“I'm just mad I wasted almost 5 full years with someone who I didn't even  _ love _ anymore.”

 

He wanted to ask if there someone she  _ did _ love. He wanted to ask when exactly she had stopped loving the Weasel. He wanted to ask if he could punch the git.

 

But all he did was pull her into his lap, and let her settle into his arms.

 

* * *

  
  


“It's clear now that you  _ meant  _ to find this place, but where did you go before you got here? And how did you find me?” He broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over them when he noticed a clear lack of the suitcase that she claimed she had absconded with.

 

“Theo told me where you were,” she answered nonchalantly as she removed her cheek from the crook of his neck to face him.

 

He raised his eyebrows incredulously. As far as he knew, Theo hadn't heard from her since Graduation either, no doubt Weasley's doing. Begrudgingly, he would admit he probably asked about her a bit too often, which is why he knew Theo hadn't heard from her in the recent past.

 

Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger had become a tight-knit pair halfway through their faithful ‘8th year’. Draco had been understandably jealous until he had found out, rather shockingly, that Theodore didn't even swing that way. He was actually quite enamoured with the ex-Gryffindor Quidditch captain Oliver Wood, who had come back to teach the new batch of first years how to fly. Draco knew that they were now happily married, only through muggle means though, as the Wizarding world was still quite judgemental when it came to same-sex relationships. He saw them on the regular, and was extremely supportive of his best friend and his partner.

 

“I showed up on Theo's doorstep barely a few hours ago, and he immediately took me in. I guess he knew this would happen sooner or later, what with him also playing professional Quidditch. He probably knew about Ron’s regular escapades, but couldn’t warn me about them. He was also the only person I knew I could trust.”

 

Draco scowled lightly, and Hermione let out a short burst of laughter at his jealousy. His attitude towards her friendship with Theo would never change, even though the man was as homosexual as humanly possible.

 

“Other than you, of course,” She reassured him, “But remember, I thought you felt the same way as you had when you wrote those last two letters.”

 

He hung his head in shame, he really hadn't meant any of that. He hadn’t meant to call her a traitor, and renounce their friendship, or mock her relationship with the Weasel. As much as what he had said about her and Weasley's relationship had turned out to be true, he hadn't meant to hurt her.

 

“I’m so-” She cut him off before he could even get the words out.

 

“Don’t worry, Draco. I know, and I  _ forgive you _ . Besides! Oliver, who I was surprised to see, but glad to find out Theo had married after all those years of pining, mentioned in passing that you had been asking about me.”

 

Draco blushed Gryffindor red. Damned Wood, he'd have to warn him against yapping about their private conversations in front of guests. But deep down, he was grateful to the other man.

 

“That's when I knew I had to come and see you, and Theo was kind enough to give me the address of this place.” She reached up to trace his cheekbone. “I had to come and apologise, for everything, Draco. For betraying your trust, for leaving you all those years ago. For settling for Ron all those years ago because it was ‘fate’, even though I bloody  _ detest _ divination.”

 

He let out a small chuckle at that, all through '8th year' she had whined about him taking the subject.

 

“I'm sorry Draco, for not realising I could very well love you back.”

 

He spluttered at her words,  _ what else had Theo and Wood let slip?  _ He was going to maul the pair of them.

 

As if she could read his mind, she leaned in and nuzzled into his cheek from her place in his lap, “Theo and Oliver had nothing to do with that Draco, I had the revelation of my own accord. After years of missing you, I finally realised why. You had loved me, in a way not even Harry or Ron had. And I had let you go. Suffice to say, I think it's the most idiotic thing I have ever done in my life.”

 

He scoffed in amusement, partly to cover up his embarrassment, “The Great Hermione Granger admits she has been stupid! You-Know-Who must be back because there's absolutely no way this is real.”

 

She smacked him soundly on the arm, and he let go of his grip on her waist in order to rub at the offended limb to soothe the ‘pain’. Yet, the look she shot him was all mirth and no malice. 

 

He gave her a languid grin before continuing, “But you had the Weasel, Hermione. I wouldn't have made a move as long as you were with him. You didn't give me up, I promise, I’m the one who let you go. I didn't want to ruin your happiness,” the next part was muttered under his breath, but she heard him nonetheless, “but I guess I somehow managed to ruin it all anyway.”

 

Her movements were still a little clumsy from the alcohol in her system, but she was sobering up nicely. She grasped his face in her palms, forcing him to stare into her beautiful, golden-honey-coloured eyes. They blazed with unbridled fury at his self-loathing, and shone with something akin to love. 

 

“Don’t you ever say that, Draco Malfoy! You  _ are  _ my happiness. And I can't believe I didn't realise it earlier,” She huffed in exasperation, yet her expression of pure adoration said otherwise.

 

His eyes welled with unshed tears at the intensity of whatever she felt for him, and he nodded slowly so as not to jostle the soft palms that held his head in place.

 

He choked out a simple phrase.

 

“Let me kiss you, please, Hermione.”

 

She nodded vehemently and crashed her lips onto his.

 

And he felt that everything was finally right in the world again.

 

* * *

  
  


His head was spinning as her lips attacked his with a fervour he had never expected her to feel for him. He grasped her waist again, pulling her even closer to him on his lap. Her hands were tangled in his normally immaculate blonde locks and one of his hands had trailed up her back to play with the beautiful messy ringlets at the base of her neck.

 

She moaned into his mouth and it was the most exquisite sound he had ever heard.

 

If she had noticed how aroused he was, she hadn't bothered to mention it, she only ground herself into him harder, eliciting his low groan of pleasure.

 

He abandoned her lips to attack at several weak-spots on her neck that made her keen loudly, writhing around on his lap in pleasure.

 

“Draco,” she mewled breathily as he trailed his lips back up her neck and settled his lips at the dip just where her jaw met her ear.

 

When he marked her there, she whimpered, “Merlin, I need you. I've never needed something so badly in my life.”

 

He picked her up and placed her on the ground beside him, snatching the keys up from the countertop where they sat forgotten. 

 

“Draco?” She called his name again, this time in anxiety, rather than animalistic need. Had she done something wrong?

 

He turned to her, and she was taken aback by the fire that blazed in his molten silver gaze.

 

“How drunk are you?”

 

She cocked her head, still quite befuddled, “I’ve sobered up quite a bit now, and any remaining inebriation can be fixed with a simple Sobering Draught, I’m sure. Why?”

 

He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her through the back rooms and to the employee exit door, shutting off all the lights from the control panel, and locking it from the inside. Puzzled, she looked up at him, only to shiver at the wolfish grin he was giving her.  _ Dear Merlin, he looks delectable _ . 

 

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the blinds that covered the single, small window in the break room.

 

“Good, because you're coming home with me so we can finish what we've started.”

 

And he apparated her away.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2 - Harry Potter Makes an Appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes! i haven't had my beta look through this yet because she's been pretty busy :')

A sliver of sunlight shone through the single gap between the velvet blackout drapes that hung from the high ceiling of the bedroom. The intricately welded double doors that led out onto the balcony were barely visible past the heavy fabric.

 

Bleary hazel eyes fluttered open only to unwittingly meet the morning sun. The only thought her mind could form in that moment was ‘thank Merlin I took that sobering potion, or I would have an absolutely splitting headache right now.’

 

She felt a warm arm shift along her waist, teasing her stomach lightly as the other person under the quilt snuggled further into her.

 

“Hermione?” his voice was thick with sleep, and she flushed slightly at the husky quality of it.

 

She answered with a small noncommittal noise before rolling over rather unceremoniously, elbowing him in the chest, which earned a loud ‘oof’ from the man beside her.

 

Once she was facing him, she gazed, unbidden, into his silver eyes. He grinned.

 

“I’m so glad that wasn’t just some wonderful dream. I had half a mind to panic that you wouldn’t be here when I woke up,” Draco murmured, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. 

 

She smiled playfully, her cheeks colouring under his caress. “Thankfully, you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain, and I remember every single nicety of last night and this morning that led to this moment.”

 

He chuckled softly, remembering her wish to drink till she forgot about Weasley's very existence. “Ah, the wonders of a well-brewed Sobering Draught.”

 

“Cocky, I see,” she quipped, “Snape’s little prodigy has truly blossomed. A properly brewed Sobering Draught! What an accomplishment!”

 

He burst into full-bellied laughter at her sarcasm and pressed a chaste kiss to her brow. “Only the best for you, Milady.”

 

She hummed in delight as he continued to pepper her face with more gentle kisses, but was shocked out of her reverie by some fairly persistent vibrations coming from his bedside table.

 

He let out a short groan of annoyance, before reaching past her to snatch up the offending device.

 

“Who is it?” She probed, shifting so that she could take a peek at the screen. It wasn't much of a surprise that he owned a muggle smartphone. Working part-time in a muggle establishment meant needing some form of contact with their world, after all.

 

“It’s Nott,” he grumbled, “He and Wood want us to meet them for lunch.” He tried to turn the screen away from her, but not before she had already caught an eyeful of all the lewd emojis Theo had sent. 

 

“Are those texts from Theodore something I should be concerned about?” She teased, quirking an eyebrow.

 

He let out another strangled sound and responded shortly, “You didn't return to his place, so he jumped to conclusions.”

 

That made her turn beetroot, but she still mustered up enough good sense to blurt out a, “Well he’s not wrong.”

 

Draco nodded in agreement, “Yes, but I rather wish he wouldn't be so crude about it.”

 

She shook her head in amusement. When was Theodore Nott ever not crude about things, especially when it came to sex?

 

“Well, since it's-” She took another peek at his phone, “almost 2 in the afternoon, we should get ready for a late lunch with the boys, don't you think?”

 

Before she could even blink, he'd dropped the phone and had her pinned down under the silk blankets, his lips caressing her ear.

 

“I’d much prefer to stay in bed with you, My Little Lioness.” he purred, and she couldn't help the delicious shiver that ran down her spine.

 

She could feel his hardness pressing into her inner thigh as his lips trailed down the side of her neck, suckling at the already bruised skin. Biting her lip, she let out a keening moan and arched off the bed to push herself urgently against him.

 

A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

 

“No- time for- this-” she muttered halfheartedly between sounds of pleasure as he continued his assault on her neck, and his hands reached up to palm her breasts. 

 

“Draco! Ah- Not now!” She squealed, as one hand slipped down to trace between her legs. She wriggled to get away from him before he could distract her any further.

 

He grumbled his protest, but pulled away reluctantly nonetheless. He sat backwards onto his ankles, so that he was kneeling beside her on the bed. 

 

“Later,” she soothed, sitting up against the headboard.

 

He nodded in resignation but kissed her one last time with all the promises of what was to come before clambering off the bed and retreating into the en suite bathroom.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

They were sitting in a cozy booth at the back of the Leaky Cauldron, the dim lighting of the pub making the small reunion seem that much more intimate.

 

Theodore huffed a relieved sigh before beginning mockingly, “Finally, after all these years, Draco will finally shut up about you.”

 

Wood laughed, slinging an arm around his husband's shoulders, “I doubt that’s even a possibility. If anythin’ we'll end up hearin’ more about her.” His Scottish lilt was out in full force as he teased his partner’s best mate.

 

Hermione giggled from the other bench as Draco mimicked Oliver's actions, pulling her firmly against his side. He coughed quietly in embarrassment and shifted so that his reddened face was hidden in her hair.

 

Wood's expression turned serious all of a sudden, his brow scrunched and his lips pressing into a thin, straight line.

 

“But don' you two think this is movin’ a wee bit fast?”

 

That earned painful-sounding smack from his partner. Draco and Hermione sat in stiff silence, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, they didn't have to utter a single word as Theodore beat them to it.

 

“You weren't there when Eighth Year happened, Oli! Or well, you were there, but not, there there. You didn't witness these two dancing around one another!” He rambled, “Draco's been hopelessly in love with her since, probably, third year and little missy over there most likely harboured some sort of feelings from him ever since they began sharing a dorm, even if she didn't know it at the time!”

 

Oliver nodded, pressing a kiss to his husband's temple to mollify him, but eyed Hermione suspiciously nonetheless. He knew how strong Draco's feelings for her were, but he knew nothing about the depth of her reciprocation. As much as she was his Gryffindor housemate, he was more loyal to the man who had stuck by him and his partner since the beginning of their controversial marriage. 

 

She noticed this of course, being as observant as she was, and shot him a wan smile. “Theo's right, I think I fancy myself quite taken with Draco, I have been for years. I spent every waking moment since my realisation about Ron wondering what life would have been like if I had just chosen Draco all those years ago.”

 

“But you didn' like him in eighth year?” Oliver raised a questioning brow.

 

“I-” she faltered, slipping into the memories of that fateful time. Back to the school which had always been an oxymoron of innocence and exposure. “I think somewhere far beneath everything, there was the potential for something to have grown. But unfortunately that little spark was stamped out by Ronald's harsh foot, and my obliviousness to who he really was underneath all his proclaimed love for me.”

 

“But since whatever ‘love’ I had for Ronald that kept me making excuses faded, I've been open to the possibility. And I've let that little spark grow.”

 

She turned to face the man next to her, the one who held her fragile heart in his hands.

 

“I don't know if I should call it love yet, after all, what would I know after years in a loveless relationship?” She shook her head gently in remorse at the thought of all the wasted years.

 

“But I do know this much: Draco is my happiness, and he has been for a long time. Being back by his side confirms everything I've ever suspected, and I won't leave. Ever again. If that's not enough, I don't know what is.”

 

Draco beamed at her, his eyes misty with emotion and he dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head.

 

Seeing this, Oliver nodded. She would be good to him and she loved him, even if she wouldn't name it yet. That much was clear to see.

 

The rest of lunch mostly consisted of chatting over shepherds pie and bantering over butterbeer, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that she hadn't felt this kind of warmth in ages. It wasn't just the fact that she was pressed into Draco's side, though his body heat was comforting. It was the feeling that spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes when she realised this was what real fun was. This is what her life had been missing for years.

 

But it all came to an abrupt end.

 

Theodore was just about to demonstrate to Draco “how to properly down a beer in 8 seconds, you wuss” when they heard a rather frantic voice drift over from the other side of the bar.  

 

“Tom? I really need your help. Did Hermione stay here last night, by any chance?”

 

Theo eyes widened a fraction before sushing the group and gesturing to where the man who had spoken was standing.

 

Hermione turned and spotted an extremely bedraggled looking Harry Potter.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Tom, owner of the Leaky Cauldron, shook his head and Harry almost broke down then and there. Where was she? But before he could start fretting any further about where his best friend was, Tom pointed to a booth in a secluded corner of the bar.

 

“She didn't stay the night, Lad, but you're lucky you stopped by. She came in to meet her friends here for lunch just over two hours ago. They're still sitting at that table there.”

 

Harry blustered out a hasty ‘thank you’ to the landlord before striding urgently over to the booth, but stopped short when a very angry looking Theodore Nott came into view. He began walking again, but his pace had slowed considerably. Was that Oliver Wood sitting beside him? And why was his former Quidditch captain glaring at him so intensely? Tom must have made a mistake, he was certain. He didn't remember Hermione ever being friends with the two, so why would she be meeting them for lunch? But, as he got closer, he spotted the side of a curly brown nest of hair, and he knew it was her.

 

His confusion only increased when he stood beside their table and saw a one Draco Malfoy sitting beside her, with an arm curled protectively around her waist. Hermione looked uncomfortable at his presence, but Malfoy? Malfoy wore the most hostile sneer Harry had ever seen plastered on his lips, and he involuntarily stepped back at the sheer contempt radiating off his childhood enemy.

 

“Uhh- Hermione?” He blurted out ineloquently.

 

Nott was the first to speak, “What do you want, Potter?”

 

Harry was shocked at the way the other man spat out the words, and he wondered what in Merlin's name he had done to warrant such treatment.

 

“I-uh, I came to look for Hermione. Ron said-”

 

Oliver was the next one to cut him off, “Weasley said what?”

 

Sweet Morgana, had the world gone mad? Not Oliver too! 

 

“He, well, he said Hermione just, sort of-”

 

“Disappeared?” This time it was Malfoy, hissing out the word while his grip on Hermione tightened. He was surprised to see his best friend melt further into his embrace, almost as if she was somehow comforted by his former nemesis. 

 

Harry couldn't form any reply other than a strangled, “Yes.”

 

Theodore stood up, “Well, our luncheon seems to have come to an abrupt end.” He pulled Wood up to join him and side-stepped out of the booth. “Hermione, Draco, shall we take our leave?”

 

Harry watched with wide eyes as Malfoy fixed Hermione with a questioning, but adoring gaze as she contemplated her options.

 

“I- I think I need to talk to Harry,” she spoke decisively, “He deserves to know the truth.”

 

The truth?

 

All four men looked a bit apprehensive about her decision, but none of them argued to change her mind.

 

Wood nodded in her direction. “We'll leave you and Draco to deal with the fall-out ‘en,” he chuckled, but the sound held no amusement.

 

“That would probably be best,” She agreed, smiling languidly at the pair, “Thank you both for all your help.”

 

The corners of Theodore's lips twitched upwards and he bent to slide an object from under the table where he had been sitting over to Hermione, before they took their leave. Harry tried to get a closer look.

 

Her suitcase? Why would Nott have had her suitcase? Harry shook his head, it wouldn't do well to dwell on all of this at the moment. Hermione would explain in due time.

 

Malfoy gestured for him to take a seat, so he lowered himself warily into the space across from the couple.

 

Merlin help him, he was going to need a good, strong drink to get through this.

 

He raised his hand to call the waiter over.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Hermione decided to get straight to the point.

 

“Ronald cheated on me.”

 

Harry choked and spluttered out the firewhisky he had been drinking. Draco looked briefly disgusted with his display of disbelief, but handed him a serviette anyway.

 

Harry accepted the serviette and once he had stopped coughing half to death, he laughed nervously while wiping his mouth. “Come on, ‘Mione, now's not the time to be joking around.”

 

But deep down he knew she was right. All the signs were there, but he had purposefully ignored them for so long, he couldn't bear to face the truth now.

 

Draco was already getting ready to lean over the table and sock Potter in the face for not believing his own best friend, but Hermione lay a comforting hand on his shoulder and he reeled his anger in. She knew Harry used humour to deal with uncomfortable situations, and that he knew she would never lie to him, so she simply stared him down.

 

“Dear Merlin, you're serious!”

 

She rolled her eyes at his dramatics, “Like you couldn't tell our relationship had gone to pot. Harry James Potter, even you aren't that oblivious!”

 

He dragged a weary palm down his face before dropping it to the table in front of him. “I'm sorry, ‘Mione.” 

 

Her expression softened into one of understanding and resignation. “Don't apologise, Harry, It's not your fault.”

 

“But I let it happen!” He slammed his palm down onto the table, his glass of firewhisky shuddering from the force. His eyes were swimming with years of pent up guilt. 

 

“I let it happen,” He said, softer this time, “I let you stay. I encouraged the two of you, even though deep down I knew it wouldn't last. You weren't right for each other.”

 

She sighed, “You couldn't have said anything, Harry. The Weasleys are your family, I couldn't bear to have been the cause of some stupid divide.”

 

He scoffed, “You know you're my family too, ‘Mione. I should have stood up for you.”

 

She raised a disbelieving brow, “What about Ginny?”

 

He flinched, “Bloody hell, you got me there.”

 

Draco noticed the other man's odd reaction and cocked his head. “How is your wife, Potter?” he sneered, knowing he was treading into dangerous territory, but curiosity winning over and making him push ahead.

 

Harry's eyes flickered between the pair that sat across from him. There was no doubt in his mind that they adored each other, though he had absolutely no clue when this development could have possibly come to fruition. If Hermione could trust Malfoy, as she so obviously seemed to, he could give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt, and maybe a crumb of his own trust as well.

 

But just a crumb. An insignificant little piece.

 

Oh who was he kidding.

 

“Probably out shopping with her harpy friends, chatting up some poor retail-worker blokes,” he confessed, taking another sip of his temporarily abandoned firewhisky. If he was going to mention any of his personal troubles in Malfoy's presence, he was going to need some more alcohol in his system.

 

Any regret in his mind about having told the pair was immediately erased when he took in the hilarious expression on Malfoy's face. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and he spluttered incoherently, unsure of how to respond.

 

He settled for a stunned “-woah”, and Harry couldn't help but give him a sad yet bemused smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh mild cliffhanger ;)  
> we'll hear more about harry and ginny eventually!!
> 
> thank you so much for all the lovely comments & kudos! ♡


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